by Elise Kova
I shift uncomfortably in my saddle. The afternoon is suddenly too hot, even though winter is trying to slip under my riding cloak. He wants to protect me—not just the magic in me. He wants to protect me. I don’t know how to process this feeling. Why is it easier to handle the thought of him seeing me only as a vessel than of him seeing me as a person?
“What is it?” Giles asks softly.
“Nothing.” I shake my head but the thoughts stick to the inside of my skull. I can’t escape them.
He levels his eyes with mine. “You’re crying.”
I raise a trembling hand to my cheek, touching its swell lightly. Sure enough, there’s moisture there. My breath quivers, snagging on emotions that threaten to strangle me.
“Why is it that it is so much easier for me to process being treated like a thing than a person? How is it that the latter hurts more?” I blurt.
Giles blinks several times over. His brows arch upward, knitting together in the middle. I can’t stand his pity already.
“Because now you know this is how you should have been treated all along. Because you know that if one person sees you, respects you as they should, then there’s no excuse for anyone else not to. The fault does not lie—has never lain—with you, but rather the shortcomings of those you have been surrounded by. You were always worthy.”
“I—” I choke on my words. I shake my head and stare forward. “We’ve forgotten we’re racing. I’m not going to let you distract me so I go easy on you.”
“I wasn’t trying to distract you. Katria—”
I don’t hear whatever he says. With a kick and shift of my weight I’m off again through the woods, running like I did every morning at my home from all the thoughts that threaten to smother me.
Chapter 23
Unsurprisingly, I’m the first to arrive at the safe house. At least, I presume it’s the safe house. I haven’t seen any other structures for hours since we left Dreamsong.
The “house” is more of a hut that’s one large room. There’s a small firepit in the center, black coals resting on a bed of sand. A pot hangs from the ceiling over it, several other rudimentary cooking elements and supplies racked around. Bunk beds line the walls to the right and left.
There are no mattresses on the beds, just solid wooden boards. It’s odd to see anything less than supremely lavish for the fae. An investigation of the trunks at the foot of one of the bunks reveals a stash of blankets. Another trunk has an assortment of various supplies from preserved rations to what I can only presume are medical supplies and ritual resources.
I see no point in sitting around while I wait for everyone to arrive, so I head behind the house to a well I saw when I entered. With two buckets of water, I fill a large, tapped keg for drinking. A third bucket is split between the pot that hangs over the firepit and a small basin for washing up.
As suspected, there are fire-starting tools among the cookery supplies. It takes two tries, but I manage to get the coals to ignite. It’s not a very large fire, but it’s warm, and the coals don’t put off much smoke.
The door opens and reveals Giles, interrupting my peace.
“I thought I was supposed to be the one cooking? I lost the race after all.”
“Unless we’re eating boiled water for dinner, there’s still plenty of cooking for you to do.”
“Mmm, boiled water, my favorite.” He rubs his stomach. I laugh. “It’s good to hear you laugh. Earlier I—”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I do, I upset you—and I certainly didn’t intend to—so I want to apologize.”
“I said don’t worry about it.” I poke at the coals.
“But—”
I’m saved by the arrival of Davien and Shaye. The whinny of their horses distracts Giles from whatever was he was going to say next. I stand and return my poker to its peg.
“As far as I’m concerned, that conversation was left far behind us in the woods. Leave it there, Giles,” I say lightly enough, but with a note of caution. Giles and I are fine and I hope he allows us to remain that way by not insisting on lingering.
He regards me thoughtfully but doesn’t have a chance to respond before Davien and Shaye enter.
“Thank goodness you started a fire, the air was already getting a brutal chill to it,” Davien says.
“Which means we should go and figure out food,” Giles says to Shaye.
“We?” She lifts her eyebrows.
“Yes, we. I lost the race against Katria.”
“I fail to see how your poor gamble results in me also having to cook,” Shaye balks.
“Because you don’t want to eat anything I cook unsupervised.” Giles grabs her elbow and heads toward the door. Shaye’s feet move begrudgingly. “Come on, let’s do some scavenging and hunting before the sun is completely down.”
“Fine, fine,” Shaye agrees.
Davien chuckles as the door closes behind them. “Those two are such an unlikely match. Yet whenever I see them together, I can’t help but smile.”
“So they are together then?” I’d had a growing suspicion.
“They try and hide it.” Davien shrugs. “But yes, Giles has only had eyes for her since he first came to Dreamsong. At least that’s what Hol tells me…and what I saw whenever the two of them were together in the Natural World.”
“And Shaye? Does she return these feelings?” There must be some reason that they generally keep themselves at a distance in public, or are modest about their affections.
“She does, though she’s taking her own time with it all. Shaye…” Davien crosses over to the fire and sits next to it, clearly debating his words. I sit once more. I can’t bring myself to sit on the opposite side of the fire from him even though I know it would be for the best. I can feel his radiant warmth across the narrow gap between us. He finally finds his words. “Shaye has lived a difficult life.”
“She told me some… that she was born to be a Butcher.”
“Like all Butchers, she was trained to fight from the moment she could walk. For the first fifteen years of her life, she never knew a scrap of kindness. She never knew people could be gentle or trusted. When she first arrived in Dreamsong, she didn’t even know what love looked like.” The smoldering coals illuminate Davien’s face more than the fading light of the sun as it quickly disappears on the other side of the mountains. “Giles was patient with her; he still is. He’s told me that he’s in no hurry and the best are always worth the wait.”
“He seems like a good man.” I draw my knees to my chest, hugging them. He meant well in the woods. He just…doesn’t understand.
“He is. But then again, I try and only keep the company of good men and women.”
“So how did you end up married to me?” I ask with a laugh.
“Because I think you are the best woman of them all.” Davien looks me directly in the eyes as he says it. There’s no hiding from him. His truths are relentless and catch me off guard at every turn.
“Then I guess you don’t know me very well,” I say softly.
“I think I know you better than you want me to.”
“How?”
“How does anyone learn anything? I paid attention. I listened while you sang. I heard the melodies you played from the heart. I watched your movements with more attention than I ever gave to the studies that would help me assume the crown.”
“You lie.” My voice is a whisper now, incapable of anything stronger.
“I wish I could.” He grins, lips highlighted in red by the coals. “But you know I can’t.” Davien leans forward, shifting onto his knees. He almost prowls toward me, erasing the gap between us with slow, deliberate movements. I lean backward, palms splayed on the wooden floor behind me. He’s hunting me, like a beast of shadow and firelight. He kills the space between us. With a glance he strikes me between the ribs. I’m helpless. “My every thought returns to you. You are like a whirlwind, down and down I spin, every time, until I’m caught in your center.
Now, I know there is only one way to escape.”
“And how is that?” I’m framed by his arms as he supports himself above me. One knee is between my legs, shifting as he moves forward.
“To give in, to stop fighting, and see where you take me.”
His lips crash on mine with a force that pushes me back in a mirror of how he had me the night before. My arms fly up and wrap around his neck for stability. He holds me to him with one hand, the other supporting both of us. I feel the strength of him above me, around me, protecting me. I groan softly as my body arches toward him without command.
How did we end up here? Wasn’t I thinking earlier about how I could never allow this to happen again and that it was nothing more than an itch? Why is he kissing me now? Why do I want it all so badly?
They’re questions I can’t answer because my mind is blank, yet for the first time my heart feels full.
Slowly, he eases me down to the floor, never breaking the kiss. His tongue runs along my lips and I grant him entry. The second I do he probes in gentle exploration. I further deepen the kiss, acting in kind.
In these moments, there are no thoughts. I no longer worry about what is and what might be, what could or couldn’t be. I don’t fear for the future and what it might hold for me in that lonely house back in the Natural World, protected from everything, separate from everyone.
There’s only him, his heat, his life. He exhales, I inhale, and we breathe in tandem. My world narrows to consist only of him—his one hand in my hair, the other on my breast.
I dig my hands into the folds of his shirt, tugging. All of our clothes are suddenly tight and ill fitting. There’s more to the want that drives me. I haven’t had enough of him yet. I want to expose him. I want to kiss until we are broken and breathless and glorious in the night.
His mouth leaves mine, heaving breaths ragged. “We should stop, love.”
The word is a bucket of ice water crashing over me. I stare up at him, grip weakening on his clothes. He must see the horror in my face because there is a flash of panic in his eyes.
“You said—”
“It is a mere expression,” he murmurs, leaning forward to slide his lips over mine once more, as though he intends to silence my already racing thoughts with a mere kiss. “Don’t read into it.”
Did you mean it, though?
The question doesn’t escape me. It fills me with too much panic. I push him off, scrambling to collect myself.
“Katria…”
I can’t face him. I wrap my arms around me and hold myself tightly, nails digging into my triceps. “We made a deal,” I finally whisper.
“Nothing but entertainment. I remember.”
“No feelings.”
“I remember,” he repeats.
“Are you keeping up your end of the deal?” I finally face him.
Davien’s lips part slightly. “I am trying.”
Trying? But are you succeeding? Yet another question I can’t bring myself to ask. Not when he must tell the truth.
I push off the ground and sway as I stand. Yet again, I’m leaving him while sorting my clothes and feeling a mixture of confused and terribly unsatisfied. How many times must I indulge in this urge before it’s satiated? This need he fills me with is a relentless beast, charging through my thoughts, consuming me with one giant bite after the next.
“Katria.” He murmurs my name and rests his hands on my shoulders, running them down my arms. His fingertips on my bare forearms shoot tingles through me that go straight to my head. I almost tip my head back to expose my neck so that he may bite it.
“Davien…” I sigh his name like a soft prayer. I’ve never believed in the old gods the elderly in town pay homage to. But if I’d paid more attention to them I’d bet they’d have a name like him.
“You think too much.” Sure enough, he kisses the exposed skin of my neck.
“One of us has to.”
“Let yourself go; give yourself to me.”
I shiver and he pulls me back to him with a tug. I’m enveloped once more. His hands sliding over me. His mouth on the soft flesh of my neck. That is, until the door latch is undone.
Davien releases me in a second, pushing me away lightly. He’s collected and composed as I’m scrambling to re-sort my clothes again. Luckily, we didn’t manage to get too far this time.
“What did you find?” Davien asks casually.
“Hare, nettle, some wild mushrooms.” Giles holds up a hare and a plump bag.
“We’re not interrupting anything, are we?” Shaye misses nothing.
“I love wild mushrooms,” I say quickly.
“Good, then you can cook them.” Giles grins, but it falls quickly when Shaye gives him a jab with her elbow.
“You lost your bet; you’re cooking. It’s time you refined some skills. A bachelor like you can’t survive forever on the charity of others.”
“Maybe I’ll find myself a lovely wife to cook for me?” Giles waggles his eyebrows.
“Good luck with that.” Shaye crosses to the fire pit, but her eyes keep darting between Davien and me.
“I’m going to go and check on the horses. Make sure they’re sorted for the night.” I make my escape before a red flush creeps up my neck and gives me away.
Alone, I take a breath, allowing the night’s chill to brace me as the door shuts. I head back to the well, drawing up a bucket for our steeds. My reflection stares back at me in the water.
“What are you doing?” I ask the rippling woman. This is a magical place. Maybe she’ll answer? Maybe she’ll have better luck sorting through these feelings than I. My reflection is silent. “A lot of help you are.”
I sigh and make my way to the posts the horses are tied to. They’re lazily grazing the tall grasses that poke through the moss without a care in the world. One by one, I let them drink from the bucket and, when they’ve had their fill, I return to the well and draw one more to leave out for them. By now, the smell of roasting hare and wild mushrooms sauteing in drippings is becoming almost unbearable.
Hushed conversation within has me pausing at the door.
“…answer my question,” Shaye says curtly.
“I already have.” Davien’s tone is lazy and almost hides the agitation beneath his words.
“You’ve dodged it at every turn.”
“I have not.”
“What do you feel for Katria?” Shaye demands plainly, making my heart jolt.
“I made a promise that I would not feel anything.”
“I don’t care about a promise you made with yourself when she came to live under your roof, or one you made to us.” Shaye sounds exasperated.
“Leave him be.” Giles sighs over the clanking of cooking tools. “He can feel what he wants for our human friend; I rather like her.”
“And I want to know if that feeling is love.” Shaye is a dog with a bone, there’s no way she’s giving this up. “Do you love her?”
I lean into the door slightly, pressing my ear against the cool wood, and hold my breath. No, I want to scream, say no. If he doesn’t love me, things remain uncomplicated. It means I haven’t made a mistake. If he doesn’t love me then—
“I do,” Davien says. I slowly slide down the door to my knees. Covering my mouth, I wheeze. My stomach clenches. I feel like my body is trying to turn itself inside out. I am my father’s daughter after all my attempts to avoid his fate.
No, I will not make the same mistakes as him. Just because love is brewing for Davien doesn’t mean anything for me. I will not be taken in by these affections. I will not indulge my desires with him any longer. I will give him the magic and be gone before he traps me into a life of misery like Joyce trapped my father.
“You know—”
“I know.” Davien cuts off Shaye curtly. “I know that she and I could never be together. However I might care for her makes no difference. I will get the magic from her and I will send her away.”
“Your Majesty…” Giles says soft
ly, almost sadly, even though Davien is talking the most sense he possibly could be. There’s nothing to be sad about. He clearly knows the lines.
“In time, I’m sure she will mean nothing to me and this will be little more than an infatuation. I will find a proper queen. And I will be free of this hold Katria has placed upon me.” Davien’s words become more forceful with every sentence. “She will become nothing to me.”
There’s not a whiff of smoke. Every word he said is the truth.
Chapter 24
Dawn filters through the windows of the safe house. Giles stokes the coals in the pit, bringing them to a low fire once more. But the sound of him clanking is distant and dulled. All I can seem to focus on is Davien’s soft breathing in the bunk above me.
My eyes open and close slowly, each time shorter than the last as I slowly wake in a dream-like haze. The fae used their magic to turn blankets and weeds into plush bedding that has transformed the wooden bunks into a bed as comfortable as what I had back in Dreamsong.
But I’m not distracted with wonder of their magic. That has become normal. What is definitely not normal are Davien’s words still echoing in my mind. They bounce off the memories of my parents that I’ve tried to pack away into neat little boxes that I never want to open.
Do you love her?
I do.
He loves me. I close my eyes with a wince. This is the pain I’ve been trying to shield myself from my whole life. It’s the start of the agony I watched my father endure for his love. Luckily, Davien is still working to spare us both. The sooner I’m gone, the sooner we’re both free.
When Shaye bounces from her bunk, I know it’s time to get moving. Davien has the same idea and he descends as I sit. At some point in the night he lost his shirt. Every bulging muscle I felt underneath his clothes is now on display. The gray dawn highlights them in streaks of light and shadow.
Our eyes meet as my gaze trails up his body. His lips part slightly. I wonder if he’s thinking of kissing me again. I wonder if his confession to Shaye has cast me in a new light, because I certainly see him differently. I’ve never been more painfully aware of his sheer presence—he assaults my senses, forcing them into submission to the point that he is all I’m able to focus on.